


One day in February

by oddlyb33



Series: Avert your eyes, my Dethentine [5]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Pls tell me what to tag, Sad, idk what needs tagging if anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddlyb33/pseuds/oddlyb33
Summary: A little MMA backstory
Series: Avert your eyes, my Dethentine [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150718
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	One day in February

The water turned clear as the last traces of blood spiraled down the drain. The masked man turned off the hose and stripped himself of his apron and gloves. He spent his morning working on the Falconback machines; he had spent most days recently working on them. He ascended the stairs of the butcher/mechanic shop he kept in the cellar of an abandoned storefront. This abandoned street in an abandoned village in the middle of nowhere was where they worked and lived; a perfect place for two no-name assassins to thrive undisturbed. The brothers had plenty of room to set up various workshops and storage bunkers. And they lived in a single brick house together because it was the most structurally sound building in the area; but also because they’d always been together. No one else could be relied on. No adult had ever told them the whole truth, no one protected them growing up; and if they hadn’t ran away they wouldn’t have had each other. 

Everyday was the same for him and his brother. They’d either train to hone their skills or use their skill set to complete an assignment. They rarely spoke outside of utilitarian discussions of when to restock their supplies and logistics of an assignment but they didn’t need to, they’ve always and only known each other after all. That’s how they survived.

The only other life they were ever interested in was their mother’s, who turned out to be an incredibly private woman. There was very little left of her outside of the basic legal and financial records. Anything that may have given them insight into her as a person was discarded long before they were old enough to even realize she was missing.

They never knew that she also ran away at a young age and cut all ties with her family. By the time the brothers went searching for information all her family had passed away, some from age some violently, but all were gone. So they never knew any other family for better or worse. They never knew that their mother had worked under the table until she had enough money to get a fake ID and a month’s rent before running away. Or that she continued to work odd jobs after she had gotten steady employment. Because of this she didn’t have a lot of free time. Her apartment had been a bed, a chair, her clothes in the closet, and basic kitchen wares. Like mother, like sons.

They never knew that she met their father a few years later at one of her odd jobs, or that he was the first man she’d ever loved. He was a performer at the small venue and she was serving drinks. He did cover songs and made a few corny jokes here and there to segue between songs. He was nice to her after the show and coaxed her to open up. She did eventually and he took the time to listen to her. She was rarely noticed, which was by her own design, and she’d never been shown affection. So when he asked her out after his next show she was compelled to say yes.

She hadn’t known that this was his routine. She hadn’t known that he’d spent a decade doing the same routine on stage and then leeching of his girlfriends instead of either expanding his skill set or getting another job. She didn’t know that he stayed with her as long as he did because she was low maintenance and more than happy to accept the tiniest crumbs of love from him. She didn’t realize how much his lack of success was eating at him until it was too late. He’d left one night, taking half her money and only leaving a note, to go on a “journey of self fulfillment”.

She never tried to find him. She never knew that his “self fulfillment” consisted of lying his way into private parties with artists, actresses and models. Or that his “journey” was fucking his way across Europe. Or that it all ended when he drunkenly stumbled his way into the woods in the dead of Sweden’s winter and fell down a hole. 

But she did learn soon after he’d left that she was pregnant. And now she didn’t have enough money, so she kept working at her usual pace right up until the end.

They knew how she died, even if they didn’t necessarily have all the details. They knew the day she died, it was the day they were born.

They knew she had been cremated and interned at a mausoleum. 

They visited her grave once every year. They only knew two dates of significance for their mother. The day she died, the same day as their birth, and their mother’s birthday. So they visited her on her birthday, February 14th. It was the only day the brothers would cook a proper dinner, rather than eat one of their pre-made meals that they kept a large stock of. It was also the only time they ate together. Then they’d go to her grave with a bouquet of flowers and lay them below her plaque. They would stay there for a few hours in silence, then return home. It wasn’t much of a ritual, but it was theirs.

The masked assassin hadn’t known that last year would be the last time he did this together with his brother.

This year he’d do the same routine alone. He’d walk up to his mother’s resting place and leave a bouquet of flowers. The flowers would soon wrinkle given the cold. And he’d stay there for a few hours in silence before leaving. And he'd do the same next year, not knowing there wouldn't be a next year.

A forgotten woman remembered only by her soon to be forgotten son.


End file.
